


Your friend request has been denied

by Notquiteright



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Accidental Relationship, Background Aziraphale/Crowley, Basically a romantic comedy, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Crack, God is really considering early retirement, Idiots in Love, Is it fake dating if you're only fooling yourself though?, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 20:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21042365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notquiteright/pseuds/Notquiteright
Summary: After the failed Apocalypse Gabriel comes up with the genius idea of attempting to befriend the traitors' in order to learn their secrets. The only problem? Naturally they are more than suspicious.Obviously, enlisting the help of the Prince of Hell in order to convincingly pretend you've fallen in love with a demon is the most logical step to take.





	Your friend request has been denied

**Author's Note:**

> This was basically written as a follow-up to Slow burn but it works just as well as a stand-alone. After I finished that I just kept having Ideas about an ineffable bureaucracy fic and this was the result.
> 
> (p.s. Beelzebub's buzzing. It was an utter nightmare trying to balance it out. Basically they always buzz a bit but in writing it's only indicated when they are a) annoyed b) trying to be annoying. So the more annoyed they are the worse it is. There are times when even the /s/ sounds turn to /z/ a bit, often there is no prominent buzzing at all. It was a headache to write, and hopefully it's not too off-putting.)

There are certain moments in one’s life, whether you are an average mortal, or an immortal all-powerful deity where you have to go “this can’t get much worse” only for it to, naturally, get so much worse that it makes the previous state look like the vacation of your dreams. 

Aforementioned all-powerful deity has endured six millennia of pining, longing stares, hefty doses of denials and “surely we can’t”s from Aziraphale and Crowley before they eventually managed to actually act on their feelings and get together. They’re impossibly adorable, She isn’t going to lie, but it was a tough road and She needs at least a good century of spa days to recuperate from the ordeal. 

But before She can breathe a relieved sigh and a tired “finally” the archangel Gabriel starts plotting with Beelzebub, Prince of Hell. 

And they’re so much _worse_. 

***

Gabriel surveys the garish red and yellow monstrosity of a building with disdain in his eyes and Beelzebub immediately congratulates themselves on their choice of meeting place. 

One could say inviting an archangel notoriously fussy about food into a McDonalds of all places is beyond petty, but obviously that person hasn’t been dragged away from Hell when the demons are quite frankly on the precipice of a riot thanks to Armageddon being cancelled. 

“So? What’zz this splendid idea of yours?” Beelzebub asks when Gabriel takes the seat across from them. They’re already exuding an aura of utter boredom and regret over even picking up the phone when the archangel rang. 

“So we can’t attack the traitors. Or spy on them.” 

“Obviously.” they roll their eyes. “I am aware what ‘leave us alone’ meanzzz Gabriel.” 

“Right. But.” the archangel lifts a finger for emphasis. “Nothing is stopping us from befriending them!” 

“Befriending them?” they repeat skeptically, trying very hard to hold onto their sanity. 1

“Well not _actually_ befriending them.” Gabriel explains like that idea alone is preposterous. “Just acting like we want to befriend them. So they’ll open up to us and tell us their secret.” 

“The secret of how they survived _execution_. By _us_.” Beelzebub points out. Gabriel simply waves off their concern. 

“Come on. Why _wouldn’t_ Aziraphale jump at a chance to get back in my good graces?” there is no hint of irony in his words.2

“Becauzzze you tried to kill him?” 3

“It’s in the past. He’s forgiven a _demon_, for heaven’s sake.” Gabriel scoffs dismissively, as if saying ‘the bar must be really low’ and Beelzebub takes a deep breath. 

“If you’ve got it all figured out why did you even need me here?” if he wasted their time then Satan help them they’re going to rip out his wings feather by feather. 

“We do have Crowley to think of as well.” 

“What.” 

“I mean come on. Demon and demon… you’d get along splendidly!” 

“… You don’t want to conzzort with demonzz even under falzze pretenzzes, izz that it?” they ask drily and Gabriel has the gall to look flustered at being called out like that. 

“I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. Also stop that buzzing. It’s irritating.” 

“Azz alwayzzzzzzz I aim to pleazzzzzzzzze” 

“Ugh, fine. Just. Talk to Crowley, alright? Be friendly…” he casts them a dubious look. “as much as you can be I suppose.” 

Beelzebub shoves the french fries they ordered towards Gabriel pointedly with a fake smile. The archangel eyes the dish warily, like it could actually spontaneously jump down his throat. 

(Beelzebub entertains the possibility of proving him right with a miracle.) 

***

Many people tend to underestimate Aziraphale’s intelligence. It cannot be denied that the Principality does occasionally experience eclipses of utter stupidity, but he’s nowhere near idiotic enough to not be suspicious when the archangel fucking Gabriel waltzes into his shop with a wide smile. 

“Aziraphale! Hey!” 

“Gabriel.” Aziraphale says cautiously but not without steel. “I thought we’d come to an agreement.” 

“Oh no, no this isn’t about _that_.” he scoffs, like it’s ridiculous. 4 “I’m actually here… to buy a book.” 

If it’s possible Aziraphale’s eyes darken even more. Gabriel at the very least has sense enough to backtrack _right now_. 

“Or… borrow one?” he corrects and the Principality’s hostility decreases. Marginally. He still looks suspicious. 

“Why would you want to borrow a book Gabriel?” Aziraphale asks and his tone could re-freeze all the melting ice caps in the world. Gabriel kicks himself mentally because he didn’t think this far ahead. 5

“Uh, because… they looked interesting? Pornography!” he tries, recalling the only genre he is familiar with. “Do you actually have some?” 

It probably surprises no one that Aziraphale politely, but firmly kicks Gabriel out of his shop. 

***

Beelzebub fares slightly better, but only because Crowley is nowhere near as territorial about his home as Aziraphale is. 6

“Lord Beelzebub.” Crowley mutters when he opens the door. “That’s… unlikely.” 

“Crowley.” they bite out, choking on the unsaid expletives on the tip of their tongue. “I… came to… give you that wahoo.” Satan just kill them right on the spot. This whole enterprise is pointless, but even though they would never admit it, Gabriel is right that this might as well be their best shot. 

Which is all kinds of depressing. 

“What?!” the Serpent’s face contorts with surprise and he near stumbles out the door. Beelzebub presses on while he is still caught off guard, hopefully leaving no time for the suspicion to sink in. 

“I may not have always agreed with your… methods.” or ever “But you were still an effective agent of Hell” that is true at least. Crowley was quite talented at causing mayhem when it suited him. “and as a demon I… have to admit I’m imprezzed by your ability to get away with such outrageouzz liezz.” they are impressed, but mostly they are irritated. 

“Right. Well. Thanks for that.” Crowley says flatly. “If that’s all you wanted I suggest you leave.” 

***

“Welcome to Pizza Hut!” the human behind the counter says with a fake-cheer and Gabriel strides towards the Prince of Hell without a second glance at him. 7

“This place?” he gestures at the empty rows of tables around them. “We’re not exactly _blending in_.” 

“If there izz no one here then no one can eavezzdrop on uzz.” they explain tiredly, like Gabriel is a two-year old human and not an archangel who has been around since the dawn of time. 

“I told you. Stop. Buzzing. I can barely understand you sometimes.” 

“Would be such a shame.” Beelzebub mutters, before eyeing him with a self-satisfied smirk. The whole thing is ridiculous in Gabriel’s opinion. No one should look that pleased while wearing a giant fly hat, no one. “So. The itty-bitty angel kicked you out, did he?” 

“He didn’t _kick_ me out.” he protests because that would be demeaning. “He suggested I leave. Forcefully.” 

“The difference is?” Beelzebub asks but behind their mask of indifference Gabriel can see amusement. They’re enjoying this! 

“I’ll have you know I could have beaten him if it came down to that.” 

“Oh absolutely.” 

“As it is, I’m trying to _befriend_ him.” 

“How exactly is that going for you?” 

“Like you’ve done a better job!” 

“I knew I wouldn’t. Unlike you.” Beelzebub says smugly. Gabriel huffs. Lord give him strength to tolerate them. He really doesn’t think he could ask this of another demon but this one… is trouble enough as it is. 

“I may have a solution.” 

“Oh yes? As effective as the last one?” 

“They were suspicious because we had no motive. But I’ve been researching.” 

“Satan help us.” Beelzebub deadpans. Gabriel casts a gaze heavenwards and breathes deeply. 

“I’ve been watching some human documentaries8 and I think we should pretend to be together.” 

“Excuzzzee me?” Beelzebub buzzes angrily and Gabriel lifts his hand in a placating gesture. 

“Think about it. It’d make them sympathetic to us and give us the perfect excuse to want to befriend them. It’s genius!” 

“It’zzzzzz really not.” 

“Beelzebub. Look. We may have our… differences.” understatement of the century. “but surely working together for the greater good… or revenge in your case, is worth it?” 

“I don’t like thizz” they let out one last irritated huff. Well. At least they can agree on one thing. 

“The feeling is very much mutual sunshine.” 

“Call me that again and you’ll regret it.” they promise icily but before Gabriel can reply the human cries: 

“Your order is ready!” 

(Beelzebub, once again, shoves the “food” into his personal space and he tries not to recoil.) 

***

“This iz not going to work.” Beelzebub sighs as Gabriel forcefully grabs their hand, mimicking a couple strolling past them. 

“It is. Have some faith!” 

“I’m a demon.” Beelzebub retorts. They spot two humans kissing rather enthusiastically on a park bench and flinch imperceptibly9 “Should we be doing… _that_?” 

Gabriel looks as appalled by that idea as they are. 

“I… hope not.” he winces as what once used to be public display of affection starts to veer into the territory of public indecency. He stares at them with a mix of disgust and incomprehension and finally resolves to quicken his steps to leave them behind. 

“Do you think the traitors do that?” he asks after a while. Beelzebub snorts. 

“Probably.” Lust is a sin after all. Maybe they really should be more impressed by the Serpent. Gabriel stops and takes a deep breath. 

“Fine. Do it then.” 

“What?!” 

“We need to be convincing so. Do it.” they stare at the archangel. He can’t be serious! But he is. Of course he is. 

“Fine. Fine.” they roll their eyes. Let no one say that they would be the one to back down. Despite their words however, they still make no move to actually kiss the archangel (Satan, the thought alone is bizarre). 

Gabriel makes their decision for them: he leans down and smashes their lips together. Literally smashing, because Gabriel kisses as he does everything in life: forcefully, but without any hint of an actual a clue. 

Beelzebub also kisses like they do everything in life: with moderately irritated nonchalance and a great deal of underhanded pettiness. They bite down hard on the archangel’s lip who yelps and pulls away. 

“I don’t think we’re doing that right.” Gabriel frowns at them, perplexed, and they barely restrain the urge to groan. 

“What makezzz you think that?” 

***

The next few weeks are spent much in the same fashion. Gabriel and Beelzebub try to mimic the intricate mating rituals the humans engage in with more or less (mainly less) success. At first they stick to spying on actual couples, but one day they almost run into the traitors who are out feeding the ducks so they decide that watching documentaries is by far the safer option. 

“This is entertainment Gabriel. They watch this for _fun_.” Beelzebub complains, throwing a handful of popcorn at the screen. 10 Gabriel isn’t impressed either. 

“I just don’t understand why he would sully himself with a woman like that.” Edward has everything he needs why he would chase after her is… confusing. 

“Or why she would even trust him.” Beelzebub narrows their eyes at the television. “He’s obviously a privileged azzz who thinkzzz he can zzzave her zzomehow.” their tone is flat and their muscles don’t betray an ounce of emotion but Gabriel knows better by now than to be fooled by this. 

“Calm down sunshine; I can’t hear the movie over your buzzing!” 

“Fiiine.” they glare their swarm of flies into semi-silence and grab another bit of popcorn. “Satan but humans are dull.” 

“You tell me. The amount of ‘coincidences’ that take up half of this… film. It’s not even realistic!” Beelzebub offers him the bowl. He takes it and throws. 11

***

If Beelzebub would like to be perfectly honest with themselves they would have to concede that… being around Gabriel isn’t as much of an eternal torment as they expected. 

It has been almost a month into their “dating” experiment. Beelzebub thinks it would have gone a lot smoother if the films were actually reminiscent of real life. Gabriel does finally manage to hold their hand without crushing it, which is a nice improvement. In addition, they manage to tolerate the other for extended periods of time, which is also nice. Kissing… hasn’t been revisited after that one spectacularly horrible attempt. 

The archangel hugged them one time and they elbowed him in the stomach and that was that. 

They agree with Gabriel: for this to work they need to be perfect. The traitors can’t figure out their plot because if they do… well. Suffice to say Beelzebub wouldn’t like to test that theory. 

Which is why they have not made their move yet. Obviously. For strategic reasons. 

They open the door to their house when realization hits them.  The realization, that they were about to order fast food just to annoy Gabriel12 who always looks so betrayed and disappointed when the doorbell rings that it makes all the extra effort worth it. That after that they would have looked for another film to watch together while waiting for the archangel to finish up in Heaven because he always makes a point to arrive later than them and they’re pretty sure he only does that to seem busy.  And when Gabriel would come h…13

Their keys land with a thud. Their keys. Their keys to their house. Which they share with an archangel. 

They… no. They have to get out of here. 

***

Gabriel finds the front door open. When he walks inside the empty apartment he feels… strangely worried. Michael is beginning to notice his absences. Has she… done something to Beelzebub? 

For heaven’s sake is he actually _concerned_ for the fate of the Prince of Hell? 

But Michael couldn’t have. He told her that he is undercover, seeking to compromise the traitors and she seemed satisfied with that. She can’t know, can she? If she did she’d have most definitely confronted him about this too. 

Gabriel fishes out his phone, just in case, and finds one text from the demon. 

_Busy with Hell, not coming._

He frowns at the unlocked door, then glances at the text again before putting the phone down. 

It’s just as well. It’s not like he was expecting to find Beelzebub cursing at the microwave (determined to make popcorn the human way to make sure the smell has time to seep into everything in the house) before giving up and miracling them ready. Or that he was looking forward to hearing them mercilessly rip apart the movie they chose for today. Or that the apartment is so eerily silent without the constant buzzing of their flies. Of course not. 

Just as he told Michael he is undercover. Maybe it’s time he went ahead with the plans. 

***

Gabriel makes his way into Aziraphale’s bookshop with less bluster than last time. He is going to pretend to seek his aid about one of the most embarrassing things that could happen to an archangel. It wouldn’t do to appear too cocky (even though he still thinks it’s a great plan). 

Beelzebub texted him back to let him know that they agree with him taking the next step in their scheming. Also that they are swamped with work so they can’t accompany him. Which is totally fine. Less chance of being found out, Gabriel reasons. Beelzebub has a tendency to get aggressive if he tries to pretend to be affectionate. They would blow their cover immediately. Really, it’s better to let Gabriel do the talking. 

“Aziraphale!” he greets cheerfully and the Principality (who was just helping a customer successfully find his way to the exit) blinks before the smile further slips from his face. 

“Gabriel. What brings you here?” 

“I… it’s a delicate matter actually.” Gabriel tries to sound unsure. “Can I come in?” Aziraphale doesn’t seem entirely convinced, but he lets the archangel inside anyway. 

“So what’s this delicate matter?” he asks, not wasting any time. Here comes the moment of truth. Or technically, lie. 

“I fell in love with a demon.” he knows God must be aware he is lying, but he can’t help wait for the ground to open up beneath his feet. Something lands with a thud and a yelp in the back of the bookshop and Gabriel freezes at first, before he notices the huge black snake wriggling itself upright again. 

“The Serpent is here???” he rounds on Aziraphale who gives him a look which thanks to a monthly dose of pop culture he can now correctly identify as “bitchy.” 

“Of course he is. He lives here.” 

“Wait, wait” Crowley stands up (now man-shaped) “You? Fell in love? With a demon? Which unlucky sod is it?” 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale admonishes gently (though not without privately agreeing with his sentiments). 

“It’s… Beelzebub.” for a moment there is total silence. Then Crowley starts chortling much to Aziraphale’s dismay. 

“Right.” Crowley says, totally unconvinced. Aziraphale gives Gabriel a considering look. 

“I see. What makes you think you love them?” it’s a test, Gabriel knows it is. Clearly, their last attempts were… transparent enough that they are still suspicious. But it’s alright, because he now knows what humans usually say in these situations. 

First. Praise their appearance. 

“They’re beautiful.” no that’s obviously a lie. Those boils? The flies? The unkempt hair? “Well, not conventionally. But there’s… something there.” 

Smile? 

“They have a beautiful smile.” he tries to salvage the situation. “When they actually smile. Which, admittedly is rare. Even then it’s more a smirk.” he’s fond of that smirk anyhow. That’s the closest Beelzebub has ever come to express positive emotions. Their emotional palette mostly consists of: irritated because of you, bored because of you, or amused at your expense. It occurs to him that it’d be nice to see them smile genuinely. 

“Uhhh it’s also… well they… they buzz. They always buzz but they only get really unintelligible when they’re angry? And that swarm of flies is…” annoying, he wants to say. But it would feel… wrong in his mouth somehow. 

Because he does feel strangely touched that Beelzebub actually shows their hellish appearance to him. Even if the boils are gross and the flies are obnoxious and incapable of respecting his personal space. They look horrendous. It has to require an awful lot of trust to own up to that, he reckons. 

“I…” he tries to collect his thoughts which ran away from him, going in multiple directions To Beelzebub’s astonished face when he hurled the porcelain bowl at the TV and their disbelieving laughter. To the Prince of Hell glaring up at him when he dared try and hug them and he was overcome with the irrational thought that maybe they should try that kissing thing again. 

Only because hugs were off the table of course and they needed a suitable replacement. 

What was his argument? Where was he going with this? 

“Oh dear.” Aziraphale mutters and the archangel realizes that oh. He was trying to convince Aziraphale and Crowley that he was in love with Beelzebub. Judging by the absolutely gobsmacked expression on Crowley’s face he might have succeeded. 

Somehow that doesn’t make him happy as it should have. 

It makes him _terrified_. 

“I… will just go.” he mentally congratulates himself on his total lack of eloquence as ducks out of the bookshop. Away from those two pairs of eyes that seemed to see right through him. 

They looked at him like they believed him. Like it was true. 

_Is_ it true? 

Love is too strong a word but… he likes spending time with Beelzebub. He likes their rituals, how they understand him. Their wicked sense of humor. Their jagged edges. Even those abominable flies. 

And most importantly, he _misses_ them. 

Gabriel figures he’ll have time to properly label his feelings later. First, he’ll have to get his demon back. 

***

Beelzebub is sorting through files about rebellious demons14, groaning when a brand new stack appears on their desk. They could ask Dagon to do the paperwork for them, Lord of the Files after all, but then there would their excuse go about why they can’t possibly see Gabriel. 

There are far less demons expressing their displeasure at the Non-End of the World through the tried and true “trying to murder your superiors” method which they’re grateful for. It took a month, but finally Hell seems to be getting back to the way things used to be. 

Well, except that the Lord of Flies didn’t use to play house with an archangel without noticing. That’s a new development. 

They don’t know how Crowley coped with pining after an angel. They really ought to have more respect for the Serpent. The feeling is horrible. 

“Lord Beelzebub?” Dagon pokes her head into their office. There’s something feral in her grin, which immediately puts Beelzebub on edge. 

“Yes?” 

“There’s an archangel here to see you. A few of us wouldn’t mind showing him what happens to his kind here.” the unspoken ‘but he was looking for you and we don’t want trouble with you’ hangs in the air. 

“Let him in. Unharmed pleazzzze” they sigh. What is that celestial moron playing at? 

Because it _is_ Gabriel striding into their office like he owns the place a few minutes later. 

“What izzz it Gabriel?” they cross their arms of their chest with a glare but then they notice the archangel’s expression. Under his usual veneer of confidence he actually seems… nervous? 

“Hello sunshine.” they want to growl something. When did that nickname stop being annoying? More importantly, when did he stop saying it to annoy them? 

“Izzz there a point to this? I’m buzzzzzzy.” 

“I can see that.” he glances at the new report that appears on top of the ever-growing stack. Satan help them, why? “I talked to the traitors. I think they believed me.” 

“Good.” Beelzebub says. What more can they say to that? ‘Oh I’m sorry, I’m not in the mood to talk because the same kind of scared exhilaration I felt when I first Fell is overwhelming me at the moment because I almost started believing us too and I don’t know what’s going to happen now’ is a mouthful. 

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Gabriel gestures vaguely at the desk. Beelzebub almost narrows their eyes. Did he come all the way here to tell them that? 

“Goodbye.” they say dispassionately. Gabriel doesn’t move an inch. 

“Are you coming home tonight?” they whip their head to stare at the archangel disbelievingly. “Pretty woman is going to be on.” he deflects but Beelzebub can see the same uncharacteristic uncertainty in his eyes he had when he entered. He means it. He knows what he is saying and he _means it_. 

“I guess I can make time.” they swallow and he nods, relieved. 

“Good.” 

They look into each other’s eyes for a beat longer and Beelzebub feels a smile tug at their lips. 

A hopeful one for a change. 

***

“Well, I did not see that coming.” Crowley stares after the retreating form of the archangel Gabriel, stunned. 

“It is rather peculiar, isn’t it?” Aziraphale hums in agreement. 

“God has a strange sense of humor that’s for sure.” 

Meanwhile in Heaven God who has constantly been on the verge of hysterical laughter (the kind which sounds suspiciously like sobbing) with a vague longing for an early retirement for the good part of the last month gives the demon an affronted look because excuse Her, She had nothing to do with this at all. 

But maybe, She allows, it all worked out for the best. 

  1. Having to put up with Crowley’s ridiculous presentations and Hastur’s er… _Hastur_ for thousands of years, Beelzebub has developed the patience of a saint. But you’ll see just how quickly that runs out if you dare say that to their face.  [ ▲ ]
  2. Beelzebub looked. Even God looked.  [ ▲ ]
  3. As a demon Beelzebub is perfectly aware that a beautiful thing called “grudge” exists. As an archangel Gabriel is quite convinced that “grudges” are beneath angels, while simultaneously harboring one against a certain Principality himself. [ ▲ ]
  4. His acting is over the top and totally transparent.  [ ▲ ]
  5. To be quite honest his plan consisted of: Befriend Principality -> Principality likes books -> Bond over books.  [ ▲ ]
  6. Mainly because to Crowley Home with capital H is wherever Aziraphale is, and the only thing he actually prizes in his flat are the plants.  [ ▲ ]
  7. His name is Tim, he is a university student, and he’s dying inside.  [ ▲ ]
  8. What Gabriel is thinking about is romantic comedies. No, he isn’t aware of this distinction.  [ ▲ ]
  9. They aren’t sure if that’s even allowed.  [ ▲ ]
  10. They rented out a house in London when it became obvious that they would have to meet up regularly. Gabriel was loath to stain Heaven with a demonic presence while Beelzebub was pretty sure someone would try to murder the archangel in Hell. Firmly renting however. Just so it’s obvious to everyone that this is a _temporary_ situation.  [ ▲ ]
  11. Yes, the bowl.  [ ▲ ]
  12. Yesterday the archangel caved and tried chocolate. Beelzebub was never much of a tempter, but they felt immensely proud of this achievement.  [ ▲ ]
  13. Home. They almost said come home.  [ ▲ ]
  14. Honestly they ended up in this mess because they rebelled against Heaven, fat chance that Falling could cure that built-in sense of “society you don’t own me”.  [ ▲ ]

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I have zero clue how popular Pizza Huts are in the UK; that scene was 100% inspired by the Pizza Hut near my university which is somehow perpetually empty and I find that endlessly amusing.


End file.
